


Siesta Time with Henderson

by NightshadeKitten



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Other, POV First Person, Short, Stupid Sexy Tillman, asshat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27297346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightshadeKitten/pseuds/NightshadeKitten
Summary: Quick self-indulgent first-person story about dating Tillman Henderson. Short, because I haven't written the NSFW bits.
Relationships: Tillman Henderson/1st Person Reader
Kudos: 3





	Siesta Time with Henderson

“Dude, you’re an asshole.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, gorgeous.”

I huffed quietly as Tillman gave me a shit-eating grin, putting out his full display of kissable, punchable Henderson-ness. The light blush that crossed my face gave it away that I was thinking about it, and that only made his grin grow wider – earnestly, I couldn’t tell if it made him more punchable or more kissable.

Probably both.

“Listen, I don’t get many days off even during the siesta, so can we please just make this fun? Let me enjoy myself?”

I thought about it for a moment.

“Sure, but you have to tell people that I’m your partner and not just an adoring fan.”

Tillman raised an eyebrow, the arch looking almost sculpted. Lucky bastard, not needing to shape them. He considered it for a moment, just looking at me with those mean-mug red eyes of his. Well. Grey. He had his contacts in, as he always did when it came to day to day life.

“A’ight,” was his reply. “But you’re buying lunch,” he continued.

“Of course I am, Tillman, I _always_ pay for lunch.”

“I thought you picked this place because of the name,” I started, collecting the sheaf of napkins that had been thrown at me by one of Montgomery Bullock’s guest pitchers from the past season. “Now I know it’s because you have to be among your own kind.”

Tillman let out a boisterous laugh, kicking his feet up on the table, having taken his shoes off underneath. His socks were mis-matched, and one had a hole in the toe.

Why I found this attractive, I’ll never know. It was like being interested in a garbage can that was painted with a cute animal on it.

“Nah, I just thought it’d be the perfect place to go with my ~partner~,” he said, the emphasis on the last word oozing with that gentle sarcasm that signaled it was more for everyone else – in reality, he was with me here for a reason, even though he was defensive about it – he was convinced he’d never hear the last of it if suddenly Bad Boy Henderson was ‘going soft’, or some nonsense like that.

I shook my head a little with an exacerbated little smile, turning my focus back to my burger. End of the day, Tillman had decidedly gotten back at me – I hadn’t even heard of the place he was taking us before we were already in the parking lot, let alone the reputation.

It was infuriating, just like him.

In its own weird way, it was charming. Just like him.

“Hey Tilly?”

“Not in public, babe.”

“Okay, then; Hey asshat?”

“Heh. Heh heh. Yes, pumpkin sweetie pie?”

“Thanks for today.”

“What?”

“I said thanks. For the experience.”

“You’re wild. The whole experience was people being assholes around you in every possible way. Myself included, given the face you made when I told them it was your birthday.”

“Yeah? I still get the satisfaction of watching you blush and flounder every time you have to explain who I am.”

“Point.”

“Let’s get home. Not too much longer that we’re gonna have here in the siesta, I don’t think, in the long run. I want to spend more of it with you.”

“Nobody else but you could enjoy spending literal days with me. Hell, even the rest of the Crabs probably have plans to assassinate me by game three.”

“Who says I’m not going to black widow you?”

“Last night, darling.”

I hated that I loved that shit-eating grin so goddamn much.


End file.
